


let me give you my life

by trashyeggroll



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Edgeplay, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, F/F, Not Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, Sex Magic, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 20:07:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19471252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashyeggroll/pseuds/trashyeggroll
Summary: "Niko huffs and actually kicks her feet, as if to get out extra energy, and then wheezes, 'Iwantyoutofreezemeduringsex.'It’s all one breath, and it takes a few seconds for Mel’s brain to pick apart the melted syllables. 'You… want me to freeze you… in bed.'"





	let me give you my life

**Author's Note:**

> This took for-fucking-ever! Hope you enjoy!

With a new magical order to run, Mel has a lot on her plate.

Besides cramming creature lore from The Book whenever possible, the Charmed Ones spend the rest of their free time shooing unwanted guests (gremlins were particularly difficult to root out of the greenhouse) or resolving can’t-wait-another-second-or-we’re-gonna-duel conflicts. Maggie, youngest child that she was, shined in this particular area. Macy was the enforcer, fair and committed to consistency… and Mel? Well, Mel took charge of asking questions Maggie was too nice to explore, and Macy too wholesome, usually ending up with at least one lie debunked before the sisters made their decision.

It was _a lot_ to juggle, and at some point, they’d been forced to set some more boundaries; the Elders, at least, had a few dozen witches who could handle crises. The Charmed Ones needed a rotating schedule to handle it all without fighting each other or their charges. For Mel, Sundays were her “boundaries” time, where the entirety of the magical realm was under threat of family curse if they disturbed her for anything short of… the entire magical or earthly realm under threat.

There was just one exception, and that exception is currently snug between Mel’s thighs, shoulders tucked up under her knees and two wide hands holding her hips in place. Her hand is tangled in soft brown hair as Niko Hamada diligently works her through her second orgasm of the morning, the flat of her tongue pressing firmly against Mel’s clit and dragging back and forth.

It’d taken a while to get here—not the bed, literally, but back to… normal. There wasn’t exactly precedent for both beginning a new relationship _and_ repairing an old one, simultaneously, but they’d worked on figuring it out over months of patient discussion, dotted with less patient moments of hurt and distrust. The latter were necessary, though—like knots in muscle, and they needed to be massaged back to smoothness, even though it hurt, or they’d just get worse. So Mel and Niko worked on it, on _them,_ and they gave each other space to heal, and as the days passed, seasons changing, the wounds closed. The foundation of their “us” and “we” were rebuilt into something entirely new, but full of scar tissue, a practiced and stronger bond than even before all the magical chaos began.

Interrupting the thought, her clit suddenly thrums with a feeling almost edging along pain, and she swats at the head between her legs, smiling reflexively as her girlfriend lifts her own smirking, wetly shining face.

“You sure? I could just hang out here, until you’re recovered,” teases the investigator, planting a sloppy kiss on Mel’s inner thigh. She’s sensitive enough that even that light pressure has her squirming up the bed, indignant.

Chuckling, Niko ducks out from under Mel’s knees and flops onto the mattress on her back, panting lightly.

Despite feeling _thoroughly_ satiated, the time witch could never pass up a chance to admire the golden form stretched out in front of her. Niko’s feet were dangling off the end of the bed, long arms stretched out on either side, one of them flung heavily over Mel’s shins. She’d lost a lot of weight during the months of confusion before they came back together, but Macy’s insistent setting of a place at breakfast and dinner for Niko, an effort augmented by the pleading looks Maggie expertly lobbed in the investigator’s direction, had helped bring her back to looking healthy while Mel had worked primarily on the ‘and happy’ part, too.

“What’re you thinking about?”

Mel blinks slowly and drags her eyes away from those long, sunkissed legs to meet big brown eyes. “You.”

“Me?” Niko rolls to one side, propping her head on her hand. “I thought you were done. I can go again, though.”

“You’re in a mood today,” the witch shoots back, brightly. “Not complaining.”

“I am, whenever I get to wake up with you.”

The abrupt pivot in tone puts Mel off-kilter, and she sits up to put a hand over the taller woman’s belly trying to discern the source of a sudden, somewhat anxious tilt in Niko’s eyes. “What’re _you_ thinking about?”

Niko shifts—squirms, really—and looks away, but still replies, “I… want to try something.”

“Try som—oh. Oh!” Mel tries to control her tone, what reaction Niko might be looking for at this juncture. “Try what?”

(Honestly, they had tried so many things over the years that she isn’t immediately able to come up with anything new that hadn’t already been ruled off the table.)

“You know how… ah, I don’t know…”

Clicking her tongue, Mel maneuvers around the bed until she’s stretching out alongside her girlfriend, resting her head in the crook of her neck so she can be close, but Niko doesn’t have to look in her eyes. It’s easier for the investigator that way, and the witch is more interested in communicating than social mores. She gives the skin under her lips a quick kiss and encourages, “Tell me.”

When Niko still flails her way through three more false starts, Mel knows it’s time to bring out the big guns. She reaches down to grab the knitted blanket they’d kicked to the foot of the bed, and then brings it up all the way over their heads. The morning light is bright enough that it’s barely dark in the little tent, and Niko chuckles softly before her shoulders relax.

“Cave of Honesty,” says the witch around a smile. They hadn’t had to use it in awhile, but she hopes the effect still stands—it’s a mutually agreed upon judgment-free zone, a sacred space for their relationship, tucked under a blanket and talking about more than just bedroom things.

And she isn’t disappointed; her girlfriend takes in a long breath and lets it out, then finally says, “I feel like we’ve been doing really well, and I… I think I’m finally happier, now, than before the magic. With us.”

Mel chews her lip, trying not to get lost in the halting sentences.

“There was a really long time that I thought that would never happen—that I’d always be looking back and wishing it was still the days before… all this. But I don’t.”

The last part loosens the anxiety in Mel’s chest, and she gives the blanket a quick lift to let in some air, still watching her girlfriend expectantly. She suspects that that part wasn’t what needed the Cave of Honesty.

“So, I think that after all we’ve been through and all the work we’ve put in together… I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?”

Niko huffs and actually kicks her feet, as if to get out extra energy, and then wheezes, _“Iwantyoutofreezemeduringsex.”_

It’s all one breath, and it takes a few seconds for Mel’s brain to pick apart the melted syllables. “You… want me to freeze you… in bed.”

“Yeah? Yes? Yes.”

Mel drags the blanket off their heads, not to break the safe space, but because it’d suddenly become stiflingly hot. Mind clearing as cool air fills her lungs, she studies Niko’s face carefully.

The first time Mel had frozen Niko since the whole end of the world situation, the investigator had pitched into a panic attack before she even lifted her hand, and that had been their starting point to get over Mel’s betrayal.

The magic-blocking ring had been a regular feature of Niko’s daily wardrobe for _months,_ and even now, Mel sometimes saw her girlfriend slip it into her pocket before they left the house. She had carefully learned not to take its presence personally; the ring, ironically enough magic itself, represented control more than anything. It was Niko’s _Inception_ trinket, the thing she could go to when she needed the comfort of that feeling—that she could be _sure_ magic wasn’t messing with her, that she was squarely living in reality. Or, the cosmically-intended version of it.

So over time, a long, long time, they set ground rules and modified them as needed. There was no need to freeze Niko to hide magic from her anymore, so the exercises were twofold: a) because the nature of being close to a Charmed One meant Mel might have to freeze Niko for her own safety, and b) because the freeze represented more than just the act, but an extension of trust. So long as it remained a tension point between them, they would never heal. So they worked on it, and Mel could freeze Niko in a pinch with no adverse affect on her mental state… but this seemed beyond that.

“Are you sure?”

“I… Yeah, I’m sure. I mean, at the very least, I’m kinda curious about how it would work.”

“You know we don’t _have_ to do that—I mean, I’ve thought about it before, who wouldn’t, but—“

Niko rolls to cover the witch’s chattering lips with hers, wrapping long fingers under her jaw. “I want to.” She gives Mel another long, lazy kiss, but then sits up and swings her legs over the edge of the mattress. “But… not right now. I’m starving.”

Their eyes lock for one electric moment, and Niko’s already launching a pillow at Mel as she delivers some version of a joke about having been eating all morning.

—

“It’s _about_ time.”

“It’s Sunday,” Mel shouts down the stairs without bothering to register which sister had tossed the taunt up her. It turns out to be the younger one; Maggie’s leaning against the balustrade at the bottom, giving Mel her classic _I know what you were doing up there_ expression. As sex-positive as she is, Mel sometimes wishes her sister was just a _smidge_ more shy about these things.

“Everything okay?”

Mel pauses a couple steps up, tilting her head. “Yeah, why?”

Her beloved youngest sibling looks nonplussed, but Mel can tell she’s trying to contain something.

“We’re fine, what’s up? Niko’s just taking a shower.”

Clearly making a concerted (and failed) effort to look casual, Maggie follows her towards the kitchen, where Macy raises an eyebrow at her in greeting, but they don’t have time to speak before the empath blurts, “Upfront, I wasn’t _trying_ to pick up on it.”

That gives Mel pause, and she turns to her sister with narrowed eyes. “On what?”

“Look, it’s… It’s been a long time since I’ve had to be like, _really_ on guard with you two in the house. But whatever just happened, I got a huge hit of it while trying to enjoy my scones.”

The time witch assesses the table—Macy’s still sitting drinking coffee from her Thermos, but the breakfast pastries are mostly picked through, and Harry’s apparently already out doing something for the day. She glances at the oven clock. 12:08 pm. Maybe a little unreasonably late to get up, even for them.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” sniffs Mel as she sits at the table and grabs a croissant.

“No, but I’m such a good sister that I wanted to make sure you didn’t want to… talk about it. Process it, that kind of sisterly thing?”

“You mean you’re just being nosy.”

Maggie shrugs, but gives a confirming wink. “The feeling was different, that’s all—different from when you guys were… you know…”

“Working things out,” offers Macy.

“But something important.” The empath leans close and lowers her voice. “You guys didn’t get engaged, did you?”

“You _wish.”_

“Wish what?”

The sisters startle at Niko’s voice, turning in unison to see her approaching from the foyer, hair wet from her shower, in a white t-shirt and heathered gray joggers.

“Wish that Mel would give me a ride to campus,” suggests Maggie easily. The sisters have gotten _much_ better at this game.

“I can give you a ride.” Niko says the words practically automatically, and Mel resists the urge to roll her eyes. Her ever-noble girlfriend could be quite the _Ella Enchanted_ when it came to Maggie.

“No, you’re not leaving my sight today.” Mel grabs the front of Niko’s shirt to tug her in for a kiss. (She’s only _half_ -serious.)

“I’ll drop Maggie off, and then I need to swing by my office, and I’ll be right back.”

Of course, “swinging by the office turns” into making a couple quick calls, and then a _Sorry, went down a rabbit hole_ text, and it’s dinner time before Niko makes it back to Vera-Vaughn Manor.

They don’t talk about It over their pasta dinner, chatting instead with Macy and Maggie about the week’s plans. They don’t talk about It before they melt into the couch to continue Mel’s already five-hour binge of Game of Thrones, the time witch snuggled against Niko’s chest and a big bowl of ice cream passing between them. And they definitely don’t talk about it when Niko falls asleep behind her while Cersei and Jaime meet their fate, becoming a gently snoring, overly warm pillow before Mel kisses her awake and convinces the lanky investigator to stumble upstairs behind her.

Niko’s dozing already when her head hits the pillow, but Mel’s wide awake for some time longer, lying on her side facing her girlfriend and _thinking._

The inquiry had come from the Cave of Honesty, but she couldn’t help but chew on the implications that might have been left unsaid. Was it something Niko _really_ wanted, or was it something Niko thought _Mel_ wanted? She didn’t _think_ she’d done anything to imply that. But why would Niko want it?

 _She told you,_ argues her reasonable side, much louder than it used to be. _She’s curious._

Touch is certainly the primary love language for Mel Vera and Niko Hamada; they hadn’t needed a single online quiz to tell them that. It wasn’t _just_ sexual, either—it was sharing one side of a booth, thighs pressed together, or cuddling on the couch, small touches during hikes and mischievous, risky pinches and pats in aisles of the grocery store. But as for the sex, it had always been an important part of their relationship. It was how they both felt the most connected, the most understood and adored.

So the fact that Niko had offered to mix the two most charged parts of their lives into a single act? She couldn’t quite discern the implications, but seemed to understand the general shape, like a reflection on choppy waters.

A sharp snore drags her back to the present, and she reaches out to ever so gently spread her fingers over Niko’s chest, drawing a humming sigh in response. She’s sure they need to talk about it in more detail, but she’s also certain that if It is something Niko really wants, maybe even needs, she’ll be there with her.

—

It doesn’t come up again, in fact, for a few more weeks. She waits for Niko to broach the subject when the investigator slides into the shower with her the next morning, but her girlfriend just pins her to the wall, slides a hand between her legs, and slowly works the witch to a bone-shaking orgasm that makes her knees buckle, their feet skidding dangerously across the tile floor. The water’s cold by the time they leave, and Mel buys Maggie a fifth of Tito’s to apologize for her subsequent ice-cold shower.

She _thinks_ it will come up when Niko spends an entire afternoon watching her mediate a border dispute between a family of enchanted chipmunks and the talking ravens that also inhabit their home tree. The investigator had had a book on cryptids open in her lap, but stayed on the same page for hours after the first thirty minutes, her brown eyes dark and following Mel’s every movement and gesture. It makes heat spring up her neck and down her chest, like Niko’s gaze is a tangible thing, stroking the places she’s drinking in from across the room, until Mel shifts her legs and feels the sticky wetness pooling between them. Maggie gives her sister a somewhat impressed, somewhat exasperated look, and Mel’s certain her face is beet red before long.

The time witch probably let the ravens off too easy, though at least Macy seemed pleased with the final vote.

When the magical creatures had left, the two had quietly gone upstairs and not so quietly acted on what those heated glances had suggested all afternoon, Mel pushing her girlfriend onto the bed and kneeling between Niko’s legs, moaning at the silky wetness that greets her tongue.

In fact, for a whole week, the spectre of their earlier conversation seems to spur Niko into a sort of frenzy, incapable of keeping her hands off Mel whenever they find themselves alone (sometimes even not alone, as Macy learned when she got up for one of her late-night runs and walked in on Niko’s hand up Mel’s skirt in the living room, the TV dimly glowing with _Are you still watching Person of Interest?_ ).

The stalemate breaks when they arrive home after Chloe’s birthday party at The Haunt, where she had almost said _fuck it_ and dragged Niko into the break room, considering maybe bending over the kitchenette counter for her, but getting caught by a coworker was far different from getting walked in on by a sister, so she managed to banish the thought.

But now they’re both moderately buzzed off The Haunt’s heavy pours, and Niko’s unbuttoning her jeans with sure hands as their tongues tangle, tasting like the vodka and grenadine from Chloe’s “signature drink”... vodka and grenadine.

When Niko pushes down her pants and underwear in one smooth movement, not bothering to work them past Mel’s knees, she’s so focused on the pressure building between her legs that she almost doesn’t hear the words murmured against her collarbone:

“We should try that thing tonight.”

But she does hear it despite the deft fingers stroking through her folds, and when the words finally process, Mel jerks her head back, accidentally smacking it against the door behind her. It’s enough of a jolt to the moment that Niko takes a teetering step back. When her brain stops rattling, she coughs, “The freeze thing?”

Blearily, Niko nods.

“I don’t know…” Mel replies thickly. There’s a stronger protest making very good points somewhere in her mind, but everything is a little muddled under the haze of alcohol. Most of the time, when they play at new or somewhat uncommon things, Niko’s all smirks and easy banter. Right now, though the desire is written on her face, she looks tense and agitated, despite the words she says next.

“I want to.” Niko slides forward again and puts her palms on Mel’s hips. “I want to, it’s the _last_ thing…”

At that, Mel’s internal alarm bells start ringing insistently enough to cut through the fog, and she sets her own hands on Niko’s shoulders to stop her from pressing closer. “We have to _talk_ about this first.”

Groaning, the investigator relents, backpedaling until her knees hit the edge of the bed, and she sits, swaying slightly and looking more forlorn than the time witch had expected.

“First, we’re not doing _that_ drunk,” says Mel gently, staying in place against her own bedroom door. The space helps her breathe and think more clearly, and Niko’s earlier choice of words jumps to the forefront. “Second, what do you mean by ‘the last thing’? Last what until what?”

“Last test to see… if I really trust you.”

 _Oh._ Niko must be more inebriated than she’d initially assessed, for that to come out so easily—but maybe, hopefully, it’s actually a sign their months of work on communication is paying off. The words are sobering, so to speak, enough that Mel pulls up her jeans and moves to sit on the bed next to her, hands clasped nervously in her lap. For her part, she’s worked diligently to not become defensive in moments like this one—and to listen carefully. “Tell me more.”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s stupid,” sighs the taller woman, dragging a hand down her face. “But it’s in my head, and it won’t go away.”

“What’s ‘it’, specifically?”

“The freeze.”

“I know, but… why is it the freeze _plus_ sex that you’re hung up on? I just want to understand, babe. I have to participate in this too, remember?”

Niko looks at her feet, hands flexing on her knees, and then back up, but her lips move soundlessly for awhile longer, until Mel slides a palm around to rub her back.

“There’s just something different about the freeze, like that. You could do anything you wanted to me, more than any other time… I’ll be completely vulnerable. And I _know,_ sitting here, right now, that I trust you that way… but I don’t know how I’d react _in the moment.”_ The investigator coughs and finally meets her eyes. “So, it feels like the final frontier. To prove it.”

Letting the words take shape and settle, Mel chews her lip and searches her girlfriend’s face. Niko seems nervous but sincere, less antsy than minutes before, but there’s a livewire lurking somewhere under the surface, a veiled danger that the time witch has accidentally stroked too many times in the last few months. It’s difficult to swallow the part of her that naturally wants to react with probing questions about what she’d done to set them back, but the new, more emotionally well-adjusted Mel hears what Niko is saying for what it is—her truth, from a raw, exposed place—and knows that she just needs to give her honest answer. The old way would’ve just resulted in hurt feelings and a fight.

So instead, she sets her questions to the side for further reflection, leans over to kiss Niko’s cheek, and pitches her voice low to reply, “Okay. But sober only. And we _have_ to talk about ground rules.”

A relieved sigh rushes from her girlfriend’s chest, ending in a rumbling, questioning hum. “Fine, you’re right, but… do we… have to stop what we were doing before? Au naturale.”

“Au naturale,” confirms Mel with a chuckle, and a relief of her own hits when Niko finally smiles again, looking like her old self. The witch kicks off her jeans and swings a leg over her girlfriend’s lap, grinding against the firm bulge of the pack-and-play Niko had so wisely secured while they were still stone cold sober and anticipating a fun night. “Maybe a _little_ help, from our friend here. Still analog though.”

Growling against her chest, Niko pushes the toy up against her more firmly, and they do get back to the night they’d been having before, if not at a more luxurious pace. But only slightly.

There’s a lot of hands tangling and tugging, and somehow they manage to get Niko’s shirt untucked and slacks open, and Mel hums appreciatively when her fist finally closes around the shaft, knuckles brushing thick curls. The toy’s already pleasantly warm as she maneuvers it over the waistband of Niko’s underwear, bending the adjustable core so when she lets go to stand and take off her panties, the cock bounces up against her girlfriend’s shirt proudly.

She doesn’t bother removing anything else, just braces on Niko’s strong shoulders to sink down on the thick shaft, eyes rolling back at the exquisite, slow stretch until she’s bottomed out, resting her weight against Niko’s thighs as they breathe against each other.

“I trust you,” murmurs Niko, almost apologetically. “I do trust you.”

Mel knows she’s not talking about this moment, and she knows Niko understands when she replies, “I know, baby. It’s okay.”

And when the witch starts rocking her hips, her girlfriend slides her hands around her backside to aid the movement, and there’s nothing more that needs to be said, for tonight at least, except for the labored _fuckfuckfuck_ accentuating each thrust when Mel comes around her cock, groaning her relief into Niko’s neck.

—

It’s some days later that Mel bounces down the steps in the foyer, not paying much attention to her surroundings, when she nearly runs into Maggie standing at the bottom of the stairs. She manages to slide to one side just in time, but then she realizes that _both_ of her sisters are actually standing there, with a very unhappy Harry behind them.

“Hi… all of you?” she says cautiously, eyes narrowing.

“This is an intervention,” blurts Maggie with arms crossed.

“No, it’s not,” sighs Macy. “But we do need to talk.”

“O… kay.”

The sisters lead her into the living room, where everyone sits on separate furniture in a way that does indeed feel intervention-esque. Mel hugs a throw pillow to her chest and tries not to glower.

“Maggie, Harry, and I,” starts Macy, spreading the Book on the coffee table, “think that maybe it’s time to enchant your room.”

An awkward silence follows, broken by Harry clearing his throat: “For your own _privacy,_ as much as…”

“Our sanity,” finishes the eldest sister flatly.

Mel’s cheeks heat as the intervention’s true reason finally lands. “We… but…”

“Not asking you to keep it down, because obviously… that has not been very successful,” offers Maggie gently. “And really, good for you, you know?”

“But,” Macy interrupts pointedly, “we did find some entries that could help.”

The privacy candle they used for Tessa had proved ineffective on Maggie’s empath powers, and besides, it didn’t mute any sound within the house itself, only if someone was trying to listen from outside it. Mel glances down at the book and sees the proposed solution is called “ _Securing and sanctifying bases”_ , and apparently the solution includes sage, ivy, and a couple household items they’d surely have on hand.

“Can we put this on the shower, too?” she jokes weakly. That earns her an exasperated groan from Harry and Macy, but Maggie just quietly winks at her, and Mel shrugs. “What? I’m trying to be considerate.”

“Maybe. Let’s… test it, before Ms. Hamada comes over again,” suggests the whitelighter after clearing his throat.

“If you guys were okay with me getting my own apartment, we could have avoided all this.”

They’d come to that conclusion after one night—one measly night—that Mel spent at Niko’s apartment, and an emergency at the house had almost resulted in the neighborhood catching demonic hellfire by the time the third piece of the Power of Three returned.

Macy nods and shrugs at once. “That’s fair, but… we’re putting this spell on your room at minimum. I’m getting to the point that I _might_ kill you both.”

“I mean, let’s do the spell, but didn’t Niko buy you guys the Bose headphones to try to help?”

The other three exchange ominous looks, but of course Maggie leaps to respond: “Listen, Mel, those block the sound, but this is an old house, so there’s also the… How do I say this?”

“You rattle the walls,” sighs Macy, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

“Exactly,” confirms the youngest sister. “And the ceiling, if we’re downstairs while you, ya know. Actually, when Parker was still around, I always wanted to get those two in a room so maybe Niko could give him some poin—“

Harry makes a tortured, strangled noise that cuts off the empath, but the damage is done. “Let’s just, er… get this enchantment in place, so that we may all stop talking about this.”

—

All in all, the timing turns out to be rather perfect. Her room smells like sage and match heads for a week after the spell, but it works, and serendipitously, Niko brings up her _request_ again one random night, while they’re wrapped up in each other and enjoying a lazy post-sex refractory period, listening to music on Mel’s Kindle. It takes a couple hours, with lots of suggestions and retreats, but they do finally come to an agreement that they’re ready to try, when “the moment strikes.” They’ve never been much for scheduling, at least in that area of their relationship.

And it does strike a few days later, a moment like lightning. They’d started making out at stop lights on the way home from pizza dinner, Mel’s hand dangerously cupped between Niko’s thighs as she drove them back to the manor, resulting in at least two rolled stop signs, a rare offense for the generally straitlaced former cop.

One crooked parking job later, and they’re hurrying up the steps, Niko’s wandering hands sliding up under Mel’s shirt as the witch struggles to get the front door open. If her sisters or anyone else was in the house, the time witch doesn’t notice, dragging her girlfriend up the stairs to her now-enchanted room and shutting the door.

When their eyes meet, agreement passes wordlessly between them, and with their previously established rules in place, the board’s set.

It feels a little silly, but Mel pulls herself away from Niko’s insistent kisses to turn on the playlist they’d made for the occasion. It’s not about _setting the mood_ in the traditional sense, though—music is just one of the tools they’d used early on to help Niko through her anxiety about the freeze. Even subconsciously, hearing a song play continuously helps the investigator _know_ when the freeze has happened, or when it hasn’t. It helps her feel some control.

Before she can twist back around, Niko takes hold of her hip and holds her in place on her belly, pushing her shirt up with her other hand and trailing wet, hot kisses along her spine. She yanks down Mel’s leggings just enough to slide two fingers between her thighs, over her underwear, and Mel smirks into the comforter, knowing she’d already soaked them through before they even parked the car. Niko swears softly as she drapes herself over Mel, a secure, warm weight that has the witch sipping cool breaths and closing her eyes.

“Baby.” Her voice is a croak, and she can’t help but arch her back when Niko’s fingers give a clumsy swipe across her clit. “Baby, let me take these off.”

In lieu of response, Niko’s weight leaves, and sure hands pull off her leggings and underwear completely. She hears more clothes rustling, and then she’s rolled to her back again, with a fully naked Niko looking down at her. The tall woman is breathing heavily, her eyes practically black, but there’s a sliver of hesitation hanging between them.

“Come here.” Mel shifts to hang her legs off the edge of the bed and grabs one of Niko’s hands to tug her close, close enough that she gets to plant indulgent kisses on Niko’s lower belly, the coarse hair below tickling her chin and reminding her that she has a plan. “You want to try one now?”

After a beat, Niko nods, backing it up with a clear, “Yes.”

It’s what the time witch needs to continue, despite the nervous energy that’s sucked some of the fervor out of the moment. She touches three fingertips to Niko’s knee, and then starts dragging them slowly upwards, feeling the muscles bunch as she passes. About mid-way up Niko’s thigh, Mel lifts her other hand to throw her freeze.

—

There’s nothing _to_ describe about the sensation of being frozen. Once she was aware it existed, Niko thought the experience would change somehow, maybe a telltale gut feeling or magical dream effect—but no. It was just, one moment Mel was dragging blunt fingernails up her thigh, and literally the next, she’s circling her clit with slow, soft strokes, and Niko’s brain short circuits.

She can _feel_ the tingling trail Mel had left on her leg, but it registers the same moment as Mel’s fingers move, compounding the two sensations for a split second—and she doesn’t come, not quite, but the combined adrenaline and surprise have her pulsing wetness into Mel’s palm, involuntarily bucking her hips forward and nearly bumping her girlfriend’s face.

What she doesn’t feel is _panic._ Nothing bad had happened. Mel’s still here, pressed against her, all golden brown skin and flowing black hair. Mel wasn’t going anywhere. The realization and acceptance of it sends a different kind of relief flooding across her limbs, mingling with the bubbles of pleasure shooting from Mel’s fingers to the base of her spine.

“Shit,” is all she can manage to gasp, grabbing her girlfriend’s shoulders with both hands, rougher than she’d intended.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to st—“

“No!” blurts Niko as she straightens up. “No, do that again. Quick stops.”

Of course, she doesn’t realize Mel’s done it again until the music skips and _holyfuck_ she has to get off her feet before she breaks Mel’s wrist. As if her girlfriend’s fingers wetly gliding against her clit didn’t feel good enough, the layered feeling is twice as intense, a sharp spike in pleasure that’s _almost_ enough.

“I have to lay down,” she announces hoarsely, ignoring the smirk that this brings to Mel’s lips.

At least, the witch says nothing as she climbs over Niko’s long body, her plush breasts brushing heated skin. With one hand resuming slow, agonizingly indirect strokes, Mel shifts her weight to her other elbow and studies Niko’s face carefully.

“This is okay?”

“It’s-it’s so good,” Niko manages to choke out, resisting the urge to close her eyes. “It’s like a time delay. I don’t feel it until you let go. Keep going.”

By the time she’s falling over the edge, shouting her orgasm to the enchanted ceiling, the first song isn’t even over yet. The rhythm of it is like nothing she’s experienced before, a repetitive jolt of pleasure that recedes _just_ before she comes, edging her along the cliff, until the final round, when Mel finds the head of her clit and presses, firmly dragging her fingertips back and forth through two more rounds of freezing. She comes like a freight train, blackness exploding across her vision and body tensing so hard she’s worried she’s going to pass out—but Mel works her through it relentlessly, still playing with her clit, intensifying and prolonging her peak.

When the seizing shudders finally fade, Niko slumps bonelessly against the pillows, and Mel pulls her hand away, smugly examining the evidence of their first successful freeze-sex experiment.

“So… how was that?” prompts Mel mid-way through the second song.

Niko hums and cracks open her eyes. Her tongue feels like cotton, like she’s already burned through her body’s ration of fluid for the day. “Like I just had the most intense orgasm of my life. So far.”

Mel quirks an eyebrow as she props her head on one hand. “Really?”

“Yes, _really._ ” Grinning, Niko takes hold of Mel’s free wrist and brings it back down between her legs, dragging her girlfriend’s fingers between her folds. “ _Really._ ”

That seems to suffice for the witch, and she clears her throat before capturing Niko’s lips in another kiss, _hard._ The taller woman doesn’t have any complaints, but she feels like she might come again when Mel brings up her hand and circles one of Niko’s nipples with slick fingers, then leans out of their kiss to suck it clean again, leaving yet another part of her body hard and wet and _aching._

She wants to last longer the second round, when Mel shimmies down her body to throw Niko’s long legs over her shoulders, but then Mel licks a broad stripe from her sopping wet entrance to her clit, wraps her lips around the slippery bud and starts sucking rhythmically.

“Oh my _God—“_ Niko’s body wants to bend, but Mel’s keeping her in place with one elbow over her hips as the witch controls time with the other.

It feels like Mel’s tongue and lips are everywhere all at once, pressing into her and circling her clit, but all she _sees_ is Mel’s plush lips wrapped around her, head bobbing shallowly as she thoroughly works Niko into feverish fits.

The orgasm drags her under like a riptide, her legs wanting to snap shut, but Mel’s shoulders are in the way, holding her open to just _take it,_ and it’s the sweet relief of letting go and letting it happen that reaches up and steals the breath from her lungs.

Niko comes the second time almost silently, mouth open, her spine arching like a bow, with Mel using freezes to simultaneously suck her clit, cheeks hollowing, and shallowly circle her entrance with her tongue. Her body coils and releases, and all she can do is thrash under her girlfriend’s touch and hold on for the ride, groaning and gasping for breath until she finally collapses again.

When she sits up, fully intending on returning at least some of the favor, Mel only allows her to lick and nibble around her nipples for a few seconds before leaning back and pushing Niko firmly away.

“I’m not done with you yet,” murmurs the witch, straddling her hips. She rocks her weight a couple times, and Niko’s so tightly wound she can’t strifle a throaty moan in response to the light pressure.

“Sensitive,” she warns, even as her core starts pulsing again. “I don’t know if I… _hnnf._ I might be done.”

“No, no. I think you can go more, baby,” drawls Mel in a tone that’s peculiar enough that Niko tears her eyes away from where wet curls are pressing into her belly. “Color?” asks the witch when their gazes meet.

It’s fairly difficult to think after two herculean orgasms and with Mel dripping onto her skin, but Niko gathers enough wits to parse through the question. The freeze is going well. Mel’s asking about the _other_ part. The dark, hungry underbelly to her expression that only shows up on nights when she makes Niko come until she’s a whimpering mess. This is Mel Vera, Charmed One, who vanquishes demons and gods and commands time itself—and as if to emphasize the point, the air between them shimmers purple and white, supercharged with her power. Her need.

So she licks dry lips and confirms, “Green.”

The next time she blinks, Mel’s weight disappears from her hips, and her clit gives a heavy throb that tells her the witch spent some time there, but what makes her throat tighten is Mel climbing back onto the bed with a neon orange cock bobbing between her legs, the harness’ straps already secured around her hips and legs.

“Oh-ho,” teases Niko, feeling like the extended freeze somehow gave her a little rest, with complex thoughts becoming possible again. “Is that so?”

She expects Mel to dish some line back, but the reaction is better, with the witch taking hold of her thighs and yanking her to the edge of the bed. The low frame means the toy is at a perfect height for Mel this way, and she wastes no time lining up the rounded head, guiding it through her folds a few times to coat it in slickness. Niko’s legs lock around her waist, heels digging into her lower back, and Mel jogs forward enough to press the first few inches inside.

Niko’s definitely _wet_ and _ready,_ but she’s not used to such a thick intrusion—Mel enjoys being on the giving end, but not nearly as much as Niko does—and the pressure feels like it’s making it difficult to breathe, her muscles fluttering to adjust for each slow inch. A high, embarrassingly pornographic noise slips out of her when Mel finally bottoms out, her hips pressing insistently into Niko’s ass.

“Okay?” whispers Mel as she braces herself with two hands on Niko’s waist.

“Yes, _yes_ —just fuck me, _pleasefuckme.”_

She doesn’t have to repeat herself. The witch pulls back until there’s just a couple inches still inside her, and then she thrusts back in so hard the headboard thumps the enchanted wall, ripping low moans from them both.

And it isn’t long before Mel’s hips pick up a harsh rhythm, hands yanking Niko towards her in time with her pumping hips. There’s an obscene, wet slapping filling the air, interrupted by Mel’s breathy grunts and a desperate keening noise that Niko belatedly realizes she’s making every time the broad cockhead sweeps over a perfect spot on her front wall, each stroke like a lightning bolt in her spine.

It’s relentless and hard, and Niko hadn’t known just how much she’d needed this until she feels herself hurtling towards another peak, helpless as Mel drops her head and shifts her hips to somehow slide even deeper.

It’s so good that she’d forgotten about the freeze until it launches her into her third orgasm of the night—Mel pushes as far as she can go and holds herself there, except she _doesn’t._ Niko’s both filled to the brim and still getting jolts of pleasure from deep, long thrusts, until the tense bubble of pleasure in her belly explodes out across her limbs and to the base of her skull, and a tide of wetness splashes out around the base of the toy and down Mel’s thighs.

She isn’t sure if there’s another freeze or she actually passes out, but a hazy exhaustion settles so heavily over her that she can’t find it in herself to care when the music skips and Mel’s suddenly stretched out next to her, the harness discarded at the foot of the bed.

Her limbs feel like they’re filled with lead as they lay quietly for awhile, through three more songs at least. The damp spot under her ass becomes uncomfortable enough that she has to shift, hissing through her teeth at the dull ache in her muscles.

“How was that?”

Niko rolls to one side so she’s facing Mel, who looks rather unsure, despite the copious evidence coating them the both. Still, she understands that her girlfriend isn’t always good at seeing the seemingly obvious signs. She’s asking, _How was I? Was that good?_

So she curls a palm over Mel’s cheek and offers what’s surely a sleepy smile. “Baby, that was—that was _amazing._ We’ll have to do that again,” she murmurs. “And again, and again. But aren’t you... tired? You kinda did double time there.”

It’s obvious from Mel’s continued frown that she doesn’t register the cheap pun at first, but then it hits her, and the time witch finally relaxes, shaking her head. “You’re so dumb.”

“You love it.”

“I do love it. I love you.”

“Gay.”

Mel smacks her on the chest, chuckling in spite of it, and she leaves the hand there, stroking her fingertips between Niko’s breasts. “No panic?”

“No panic,” confirms the investigator. “If it wasn’t for all the orgasms, I’d say it was…”

“Don’t,” groans Mel, but it’s too late.

“...a little anticlimactic. Kinda like you. I can fix that.”

Huffing, Mel almost pinches the fleshy part of one breast before Niko catches her wrist and leverages it to pull Mel close enough for another kiss. It starts with chuckles and teasing, but it isn’t long before she’s biting and sucking her girlfriend’s plump bottom lip as Niko rolls them, pressing her thigh between Mel’s.

—

Mel had definitely been nervous, even a little uncomfortable, the first time she froze Niko, leaving just herself while they were supposed to be involved in a most intimate act—but after seeing her girlfriend’s reaction, _feeling_ it pulse against her fingers and tongue, she’d allowed herself more and more leeway, safely within their rules, until Niko seemed to black out at the height of her third orgasm. That was a first for them, and while a bro-y, arrogant part of her was proud, she didn’t truly let go of her worry until Niko came to and confirmed her approval.

But Niko knew her better than anyone else, knew that she needed a little more. After the intensity from before, the open affection shining in Niko’s eyes is almost too much, heat spiking reflexively behind hers, and she has to close them against the feeling.

“It’s okay.” Niko’s whisper comes from somewhere near her collarbone as long fingers stroke along her breasts, around to her belly and thighs. “Thank you, baby. You took such good care of me. You’ve _been_ taking such good care of me.”

“I—Niko, I’m…” _I’m sorry. I’m still so sorry._ She’s said it a thousand times and would say it a thousand more if it would do any good.

“I know, baby. It’s okay—we’re okay. Let me take care of you now?”

Mel opens her eyes again as Niko’s fingers pause just above the patch of hair between her legs, and she nods a few sharp nods, until her girlfriend starts moving.

She’s already close to the edge from their earlier activities, almost too sensitive, but Niko fucks her with absurd gentleness and three fingers, a thigh braced behind her hand for slow, deep thrusts, her thumb swiping over Mel’s swollen clit with every other pass. This time, she forces her eyes to stay open when they sting with tears, because she’s been to the Elysian Fields and flown over the Alps on a broomstick, but she’s never seen anything as breathtaking as Niko Hamada, brown hair slicked to her neck with sweat, the tips of her cheeks reddened as she curls her whole body into Mel’s with every stroke.

When she comes, it’s not an avalanche or a lightning strike, but a roaring hurricane that builds and breaks over her in a wash of relief, cool and tingling, with her arms wrapped around Niko’s strong neck and their foreheads pressed tightly together, drinking gasping breaths from each other’s mouths. Her body grips and pulses around Niko’s fingers, which press and twist slowly to work her through the final shudders, until a warm stillness settles over the room.

The playlist ends, and Niko slips out of her gently, wincing in sympathy when Mel hisses in discomfort.

All she wants to do is close her eyes and sleep, even with her girlfriend sprawled over her like a warm weighted blanket, but the sheets are soaked and the air is heavy with the smell of sex; they’d regret calling it a night in the morning.

So they hop in the shower after a furtive scurry down the hall, checking that no one lingered anywhere nearby, and are truly too tired to do anything other than give each other a wash, with a couple childish ass pinches thrown in for good measure. It’s more of a struggle than it needs to be when they change the sheets, but all the extra effort feels more than worth it when Mel falls onto the clean, dry fabric. She wriggles onto her back, and Niko shimmies down the bed to rest her head on Mel’s stomach, one hand curled possessively around her hip.

For the next two Sundays, Niko follows the “not leaving my sight” directive, and Macy doubles the enchantment on Mel’s room.

**Author's Note:**

> yell at me on tumblr [@trashyeggroll](https://trashyeggroll.tumblr.com/)


End file.
